The Dancing Doctor
by azriona
Summary: The Doctor can dance. Of this, he’s absolutely positive. Rose and Jack need convincing. Takes place immediately after "The Doctor Dances." Nine/Rose, Jack. 1/1


**Characters:** Nine, Rose, Jack  
**Summary:** The Doctor can dance. Of this, he's absolutely positive. Rose and Jack need convincing.

**A/N:** Takes place immediately after the episode "The Doctor Dances". Written for beneficia on LJ. This is her fault.

**The Dancing Doctor**

Normally taciturn and grumpy, the Doctor was on a mission: prove to Rose Tyler that he was absolutely perfectly capable of _dancing_.

Not just any kind of dancing. _Every_ kind of dancing.

"Rose Tyler," said the Doctor, with a great grin on his face, "You want to dance? Let's go dance."

Rose, breathless, fell against the jump seat. "I thought we were just dancing? Glenn Miller, twirl and dip?"

"Nope, you want dancing, you're going to get _dancing_." The Doctor threw a lever, pushing the TARDIS into the Vortex.

"Dancing, I can help with that," offered Jack.

"I'm sure you could," said the Doctor cheerfully. "But it's still my dance!"

"So where are we going dancing?" asked Rose.

He dropped the TARDIS out of orbit, and crooked his arm at her. "Rose, your dance floor awaits."

Rose grinned and slipped her hand in his arm. "What kind of dancing?" she asked as they stepped out of the TARDIS and into a...

"Country western?" asked Jack behind them. "Wow, Doc. Never thought you had it in you."

The Doctor frowned. "I didn't aim for country western."

"_Line dancing_!" Rose clapped her hands. "Oh, come on, Doctor. It's not so hard." She began to tug on the Doctor, who frowned at the neatly formed rows of people wearing cowboy boots and skirts with fringe.

"Have fun!" sang Jack, right before the Doctor grabbed him by the collar.

"Oh, no, you're not getting out of this either," he growled.

Jack's yelp in protest was fruitless.

_Fifteen minutes later:_

While he still did not quite fit the expectation of taciturn and grumpy, the Doctor was now more determined than ever to prove to Rose Tyler that he was more than capable of _dancing_.

Just not country western line dancing.

"That was fun," said Rose cheerfully from the jumpseat, where she swung her legs gaily. "Well, it _started_ fun."

"It wasn't my fault," protested Jack. "That whole row of people was about to fall over anyway."

"Like dominoes," agreed Rose.

"I can't help it if the bartender was an old friend – and I paid him that money, no matter what he says is true."

"I'm sure you did," soothed Rose.

"If I could have your attention for just a moment," said the Doctor, in a I'm-doing-my-best-to-be-pleasant voice. "Rose, with me."

"Ooo, now where," said Rose, jumping off the jump seat and joining the Doctor down the ramp. The door opened to reveal...

"This is more like it," Rose said, very satisfied. "You finally brought me to Vienna."

"Have to waltz somewhere," said the Doctor smugly.

"Huh," said Jack, glancing around the room. "Waltzes."

"Yes, waltzes," agreed the Doctor, and held his arms out to Rose. "Your feet are at the end of your legs, you may care to move them."

"Ha," replied Rose, and in a minute, they were off.

It took Jack exactly ten seconds to find himself a partner.

_Fifteen minutes later:_

There was a distinct hint of a dour and sour Doctor beneath the barely temperate veneer, but the Doctor would not rest until he had definitely shown to Rose Tyler that he was more than capable of _dancing_.

Just not waltzing.

"I was doing perfectly well until Jack interfered," grumbled the Doctor as he fiddled with the controls.

"It was not my fault."

"You stepped on the queen of Austria's gown and ripped her skirt clear off her body, Jack. How is that not your fault?"

"She spun the wrong way!"

"You're the one who spun her!"

"I think you did very well," said Rose helpfully, but the Doctor didn't hear her above the squealing of the time rotor.

"Right, new dance," announced the Doctor. "Rose?"

Rose followed the Doctor down the ramp, and peered out the door where she saw...

"Tables?"

"Table dancing," explained the Doctor cheerfully, leading them to a table.

"Now, that's my kind of dancing!" exclaimed Jack. Rose stopped in her tracks.

"I am _not_ dancing on a table."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Who said _you_ were dancing on a table?"

Rose shrieked, but the Doctor grinned. "Trust me, Rose!" He picked her up and deposited her on a chair. "You'll like it!"

"I'm not watching Jack dance on a—"

The words trailed off as Rose spied everyone around them, swaying back and forth in various rhythms at their tables. "Oh. Wait a minute. You meant dancing _at_ the table, not _on_ it."

"Told you," said the Doctor, very smug. He offered her his hand. "Care to dance?"

"My pleasure."

Jack sighed, and then gave a shrug.

_Fifteen minutes later:_

He couldn't be called pleasant, but he wasn't exactly seething either. Rose decided the best way to describe the Doctor just then was sternly authoritative, and about two steps from tossing Jack out the TARDIS door, except this would not have counted as dancing. And more important than anything else was conclusively proving to Rose Tyler that he was more than capable of _dancing_.

Just not at tables.

"You were doing very well until Jack got up on the table and knocked it over."

"I didn't know it was spring-loaded!" Jack yelled.

"We. Are. Going. Dancing."

"We've _been_ dancing," Rose pointed out. "Three times now. I'm convinced, you can dance."

"You've only seen me dance for three minutes at a time," said the Doctor. "And every time was interrupted by Jack needing to be saved from certain death. We are going _dancing_ and we're going dancing _all night_ and we're not going to _stop_ dancing until you're so sore you can't move the next day."

Jack snickered. The Doctor ignored him.

"Yes, sir," said Rose, eyes wide. "So...um...where to?"

"We're there." He held his hand out to Rose, who cautiously took it, and followed him down the ramp, where the door opened to show...

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Rose?"

"There's no music."

"They haven't started playing yet," explained the Doctor, leading his companions into the ballroom. "The band's just setting up now."

Sure enough, six creatures were on the stage, all arranging their – for lack of a better word – musical instruments. One might have been a tuba, except then a set of eyes on the horn section blinked, at which point Rose decided to pay attention to the other couples.

"So what kind of dancing is this?" asked Jack.

"Very easy – you'll pick it up when the music starts to play."

Jack snorted. "You just want a head start on impressing Rose with your _dancing_."

The Doctor glared.

_Fifteen minutes later:_

Had the Doctor been the type to grind his teeth, Rose was fairly sure they would have been ground to the gums by now. Except he wasn't, which was just as well, since finding a dentist was less important than convincing Rose Tyler that he was more than capable of _dancing_.

Just not to telepathic music.

"You didn't have to tackle them," the Doctor snapped at Jack.

"Well, how was I to know they were dancing to telepathic music?" yelled Jack. "It looked like the entire room was going into seizures."

"That's what dancing looks like!"

"Sure, if there's no music!"

"There was music! It was telepathic!" protested the Doctor.

"Fat lot of good that does me, _not being telepathic_," Jack countered.

"You didn't look the least bit like a seizure," Rose told the Doctor, but it didn't help.

"Fine, Jack. You want music you can hear, I'll give you music you can hear." He pulled on one of the many TARDIS levers, and instantly the ship ground to a stop. "Out you get."

Jack walked down the ramp, somewhat cautious, and opened the door to reveal...

"You know about this place?" Jack asked the Doctor.

"Of course I do," said the Doctor smugly, leaning against the control panel.

"I know this music," said Rose slowly. "And it's not Earth music."

"Mos Eisley Cantina," continued the Doctor, the smug growing stronger. "Best live music this side of the galaxy."

Jack chortled and ran out of the ship. The Doctor took Rose's hand and they followed.

"It's _real_?" asked Rose, staring around. "I thought that was a movie."

"You haven't seen the last three films yet, have you? Proof positive that George Lucas has no imagination."

Jack was already on the dance floor.

There was utter silence in the console room, as the Doctor determinedly worked the controls. He was not angry – exactly. He was not calm – exactly. Rose wasn't sure _what_ he was, exactly, except absolutely focused on showing to Rose Tyler that he was more than capable of _dancing_.

Just not at during Singles Night at the Mos Eisley Cantina.

"I thought he knew," Jack whispered to Rose.

"Knew what?" she whispered back.

"Tuesdays at Mos Eisley, you don't dance with _anyone_, you dance with _everyone_."

"I thought that was just _you_," hissed Rose.

There was a bang from the control panel. Jack and Rose jumped.

"Excellent acoustics in here, you know," said the Doctor mildly. Rose wondered how the vein in his temple didn't throb out of his skin.

"I'd like credit for dragging you out before they lynched you," said Jack. "Honestly, Doc, you don't actually _touch_ anyone on the dance floor at Mos Eisley. Serious breach of etiquette."

"He was trying to waltz," said Rose.

Jack stared at her. "That was waltzing?"

"I thought so. Maybe it was the two-step?"

Jack shook his head. "He tried that already. Could have been the jitterbug."

"It was very nice, whatever it was," said Rose loyally.

The TARDIS jerked to a halt, and both the humans fell to the floor. "We're here."

"Here?" echoed Rose. "Where is here?"

"Dancing," said the Doctor, and pulled her off the floor. "Let's go, then."

He pulled Rose down the ramp, and opened the door to reveal...

"Please tell me you're joking," said Rose, staring in shock at the dance floor. "Please, please, please."

"I'm not joking, I never joke," said the Doctor.

"Are those mirror balls in the trees?" asked Jack, poking his head out from behind them.

"I think so," said Rose, her eyes wide.

"He's not actually going to _disco_, is he?"

"Rose!" The Doctor was already backing onto the dance floor. "Rose, come on! I can dance!"

"I think he is," said Rose. Which was when she spied what twirled around _on_ the dance floor.

"Rose, come on and dance with me!"

"I don't think so, Doctor!"

"Come on, Rose, I can dance!"

"No, you really can't!" Rose called back.

"Yes, I can!"

"No, you _really_ can't!" insisted Rose, backing up to the TARDIS. "Doctor, trust me! No dancing!"

"Don't you believe me?" cajoled the Doctor. "I've got moves, Rose!"

And the Doctor began to Dance.

_Three minutes later:_

It was a taciturn and grumpy Doctor who piloted the TARDIS, while his two companions rolled on the floor, clutching each other in laughter.

"The Doctor dances," howled Rose. "And the world ends!"

"It most certainly does," agreed Jack, practically crying.

"I'm a perfectly capable dancer!" yelled the Doctor.

"Just not disco," countered Jack.

"Especially not disco with a countdown clock," added Rose.

"On a planet destined for destruction."

"Because it's addicted to disco."

"And disco is evil."

The Doctor ignored them both, sulking. "I can so dance," he grumbled, and threw the TARDIS into the Vortex.


End file.
